


glue

by boss



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boss/pseuds/boss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyunho doesn’t like Jiho’s fanservice. </p><p>(He loves it. </p><p>And hates himself. </p><p>In that order, too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	glue

Hyunho doesn’t like Jiho’s fanservice.

(He loves it.

And hates himself.

In that order, too.)

 

 

He knows how it is; he’s heard the pros from management. Fans love it when band members are all over each other.

“It’s like this,” says Jenissi seriously. “Imagine if your ex girlfriend and your girlfriend were to suddenly kiss each other. Would you want to watch that? Of course you would.”

Yano strokes his chin and looks like he’s trying too hard to appear knowledgable on the concept of “girlfriends.” On the other side of the room, A-tom thoughtfully nods and smirks into his hands. Hansol looks like he’s thinking of what to order for dinner tonight and Sangdo hasn’t looked away from his phone in -- Seogoong checks his own phone for the time -- two hours and counting.

“It’ll be fun,” says Xero, eyes dancing.

Kidoh shifts uncomfortably on the couch next to him and whispers, “Don’t grab my dick on air, dude.”

Xero laughs and, almost gleefully, says, “I wouldn’t.” His eyes find Seogoong’s.

Seogoong, quite honestly, did not ask for this.

 

 

He thinks it’ll be harmless. Come on, it’s Xero, of all people. _Xero._ The kid couldn’t kill a bug if it flew in and landed on his nose; he’d end up smacking his own face before he did any real damage.

And he understands it. Topp Dogg has thirteen members. Sure, the fans _can_ love all thirteen members equally, but they’re from a small company with a tight budget.

Fans will pick their favorites and stick with them, and everyone wants to be a fan favorite. If fans love idol-love, whoever lays it on thick enough will worm their way into their hearts and wallets.

This is a business, Topp Dogg are a brand, and every member is trying to get their name out there. Seogoong understands that completely.

What he doesn’t understand is why Xero keeps kissing _him_ on television.

(And why later, in the privacy of his fifteen minute shower, he wraps a hand around his dick and beats off, eyes closed as if he could somehow hide this from himself.)

 

 

Understanding fanservice is not the same thing as playing it up.

He does it -- with Yano, quite frankly out of nowhere, and Yano freezes like a deer that’s somehow wandered into a lion’s open jaws. It’s easy because Yano is easy to read. Kidoh is too, though not as openly as maknae, and Seogoong would bet his entire allowance A-tom has never thought of Seogoong in more than a “I guess this hyung is okay. For now,” way.

But Xero.

Xero, who presses his cheek against Seogoong’s and smiles into the camera, pulling Seogoong’s arms _away from his own body_ and around his own, preening. Trying to kiss him while Seogoong is trying to talk, distracting Seogoong away from his previously rehearsed points.

Seogoong knows how he’s supposed to react.

“Oh my God,” he says in English, recoiling, _still trying to talk_ because he needs to get this out.

Xero’s breath smells like the mints he had been nervously chewing earlier and his lips are soft, brushing against the barely there hairs on Seogoong’s cheek.

He does it again and Seogoong winces because Xero is too close, he smells too good, and it’s _Xero_ , of all people.

Seogoong feels like this shouldn’t be happening because of _Xero._

And maybe that’s where all of his problems start.

It can’t be Xero.

Unreadable, coy, will-do-anything-get-ahead Xero. Seogoong is only a pawn and Xero is a chessmaster, a puppeteer. He has the upper hand, and it’s Seogoong who falls, Seogoong who will be sacrificed for the greater good of Xero’s career.

“It’s not real,” Hyunho whispers, head against the shower tiles. The water is too cold and steals the breath from his chest, but if Hyunho moves, he’ll have to acknowledge his erection and he’ll have to think about how, at dinner that night, Jiho had brushed up against him -- accidentally, too -- and Hyunho flinched as if he’d been struck.

Jiho hadn’t noticed.

(Typical.)

 

 

This isn’t to say Seogoong never plays along. He does. He never pulls away from their wrist hearts -- the fans like it and Xero’s eyes light up like incandescent street lamps on a clear summer night.

“I think you’re actually getting the hang of this,” he says once, brushing hair away from his eyes.

Seogoong lowers his water bottle, thinks about a reply, and decides to go the safe route. Behind them, Yano is napping with his head in the middle of Sangdo’s back. Seogoong should wake them up soon. “Getting the hang of what?” he inquires calmly.

Xero, looking at him, smiles. “You know,” he says. “The whole touching thing. Is Seogoong hyung’s cold heart melting for me?” He laughs, nose scrunching up -- Seogoong’s gut pulls with want -- and reaches over for Seogoong’s water bottle.

He takes it out of Seogoong’s hands and Seogoong, unable to vocalize a single complaint, watches Xero press his lips to the bottle. He takes a long swig. “Ah,” he says and wipes his lips with his sweatshirt sleeve. “What do you think, hyung? Can I be a CF model?” He winks.

There are too many thoughts in Seogoong’s head -- _Is Seogoong hyung’s cold heart melting for me?_ \-- and he can only laugh mindlessly, reaching over to purposely mess up Xero’s hair. His hair is so soft-- “Sure, squirt. You can be anything you want to be as long as you put your mind to it.”

Xero pouts at him, mumbling, “Squirt?”

Seogoong ignores him and darts away to tickle Yano awake.

 

 

That night in the shower, Hyunho wonders when he had turned upon this path.

These thoughts don’t happen overnight. Hyunho would never, ever, have a thought like this about Sangdo or Sehyuk hyung. Okay, he’s had thought or two about Hansol back in their trainee days, but no one has to know about that and Hyunho’s never thought about him since.

Is it because Xero touches him so often? Is Seogoong so deprived of meaningful physical attention that now his groupmate can’t touch him without his mind jumping to explicit fantasies? He’s not a teenager; random erections haven’t been a thing for more than two years; he doesn’t cling to every pretty noona who has ever looked at him anymore.

Fanservice is a game to Jiho; he would never be okay with Hyunho inviting him into the _shower._

(As if Hyunho could actually find it in himself to vocalize a desire like this in the first place.

But if he _did_ \--)

They don’t do _that._ Those kinds of things. Would Jiho even be interested in... those kinds of things with...Hyunho? Not that Hyunho is interested because, he tells himself, he’s emphatically _not._

But if he were...

In an alternate reality where Seogoong and Xero don’t exist, and Hyunho and Jiho meet and they find each other attractive. Maybe it’s at school, they don’t know each other, they’re not even in the same grade.

Through mystical, serendipitous means, Hyunho and Jiho become friends and then -- because, even in this alternate world, Hyunho doesn’t think he’d have the courage to do it first -- Jiho would kiss him. Shyly. He would blush, duck his head, “Hyung, I--” He would bite his pink lips, bite them and avert his eyes, even though he and Hyunho are pressed up against each other. No one else is around.

Jiho would be the first to act, but he would also be the first to deny it. “I’m sorry, I tripped and I caught myself on your mouth. At least I didn’t fall, right, hyung? That’s good news,” he would say with a straight face, Hyunho’s taste still in his mouth.

Then Hyunho would hold his breath and kiss him, softly at first, then with a little bite. “Oops,” he’d whisper, their foreheads pressed together. “I tripped too. Good thing I caught myself.”

In Hyunho’s fantasies -- and we’re talking hardcore 19+, the kind of fantasies you wouldn’t admit to even if a firing squad burst through your wall at four in the morning and pointed uzis at your face -- Jiho always begs for it.

On camera, he’s bold, fearless even, but when they’re alone, he comes apart at Hyunho’s touches. Desperate, whimpering, rutting against Hyunho’s leg, so hard he’s trembling and babbling Hyunho’s name, and only Hyunho, who made him like this, can make him feel better.

“Oh God,” Hyunho groans, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off with quick, rough strokes. Thinking about Jiho like that has always felt a little out of bounds, but tonight, when images of Jiho on his knees, nuzzling his face into Hyunho’s crotch run abound, whining about how much he wants Hyunho to fuck him, it feels even worse.

He finishes quickly, prioritizing speed over his own pleasure, and washes excess soap off his back. If only he could flush his guilt down the drain too.

The worst thing is, it doesn’t end there.

(Why would it? Wouldn’t that be too easy on Hyunho’s psyche?)

They sleep in the same room. He knows what Jiho looks like all rumpled and soft in his pajamas, apple hairstyle lopsided from his pillow. Eyes open, Jiho is there. Eyes closed, Jiho is there, smiling, cupping Hyunho’s face in his hands, kissing him out in the open, under warm sunlight, intertwining their fingers, wrapping Hyunho’s arm around his waist.

Unfortunately (fortunately?), Hyunho never fully remembers these dreams. Only snippets of Jiho’s bright smile and the weight of him tucked into Hyunho’s arms.

 

 

Hello typical Wednesday, backstage at a music program. Jenissi is drooling on Seogoong’s shoulder, but Seogoong is too exhausted to move him.

Sangdo laughs half heartedly and accidentally jostles A-tom, the grumpiest maknae, who glares daggers into the side of Sangdo face and tells him to stay still.

Nakta and Bjoo are off to the restroom, and P-Goon is talking intensely with Manager Park hyung, gesticulating wildly, though his expression is calm. Seogoong tries to catch his eye and ask if he needs help, but P-Goon seems to be handling this on his own.

Hojoon is texting on Seogoong’s other side and Kidoh, from the smirk on his face, is going through his Twitter mentions. Gohn, earbuds in, mouths along to his music player, foot tapping out a beat on the floor.

Poor little sleepy Yano will fall off his chair at this rate, and if Hansol could stop pacing, that’d be great, but all in all, Topp Dogg are in good shape.

No one is puking, crying, or trying to sit on each other. They’ve come so far.

(Seogoong pictures a smiling, tearful emoji.)

Xero’s arrival throws a wrench into Seogoong’s perfect peace.

And then Seogoong instantly feels like a shitty groupmate and an even shittier hyung because it’s not Xero’s problem he can’t differentiate between fantasy and reality. Xero is only doing his job. So then why is it almost painful when Xero walks over, grabs Hojoon’s phone out of his hand, and plops down onto Hojoon’s lap?

Hojoon groans lowly, reaching for his phone, “Give it back, you little brat,” jostling his elbow into Seogoong’s side.

Seogoong doesn’t even feel it.

Xero smiles brightly, “What are you doing, hyung? Something naughty~?”

Hojoon scoffs and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “What do you know about ‘naughty’ things, Xero?”

There are no cameras back here; there’s no need for Xero to be in Hojoon’s lap. He is, though, he is and Hojoon isn’t throwing him off. Hojoon looks quite comfortable, if Seogoong would admit it to himself, and he digs himself deeper into his shittier hole because there is no way he is _jealous_ of a groupmate over another

groupmate! 

Still asleep, Jenissi snorts, distracting Seogoong away from the hellish wildfire at his side. Hojoon and Xero are still “arguing,” which, Seogoong admits, is usually how they communicate, but that doesn’t explain the rancid taste in his mouth or the yearning in the pit of his gut.

“Hyung,” A-tom grunts, pushing himself away from Sangdo, face thunderous. “I’m terminating our friendship contract, I don’t want to associate myself with you anymore--”

Sangdo laughs, reaching for A-tom’s arms to pull him back down, “Wait, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”

A-tom retaliates by sitting on Sangdo as hard as he can.

Sangdo laughs harder and swears, “Fuck."

Yano falls off his chair.

Kidoh shushes them all, “God, kids, shut up for like three seconds. I think Lee Hyori sunbaenim followed me back.”

A-tom next tries to sit on _him_. Gohn hides a smile in his sleeve.

“Kill me,” Jenissi mutters on Seogoong’s shoulder. “Just stab me in the face. Do it.”

The peace was nice while it lasted.

(The emoji is now sighing.)

 

 

The camera lens almost hits Seogoong’s nose. “Whoa!” he says, leaning back, and then, with a perfect Seogoong-y smile, waves, “Hello.”

“Hyung, hyung~!” Xero trills, easily slipping his hands around Seogoong’s waist. Fingers laced together, his hands are right over Seogoong’s bellybutton. “Hi! I’m Xero!”

“Xero, introduce our new song,” P-Goon pops his head into the frame, taking up the rest of the space.

The camera man’s assistant shakes her head and makes an x with her fingers when B-Joo tries to sneak in; he pouts and lets Jenissi drag him away.

“Ahaha, what?” Xero smiles, now tense against Seogoong’s back. “Our song? Our song is about, um.” He laughs. “It’s.” He probably doesn’t even know he’s squeezing Seogoong’s liver like this and his cheek is hot against Seogoong’s.

Still trying to dazzle the camera, Seogoong places his hands on top of Xero’s and holds them there. He launches into a hopefully charismatic explanation of their promo song, ending with a few over the top cheesy winks and some well placed bunny ears aegyo.

Throughout the entire little explanation, Xero nods enthusiastically, now pressed even closer to Seogoong than he had been before, raising and lowering his mouth from Seogoong’s shoulder.

“Seogoongie should have my job,” says P-Goon, reaching out to pull on one of Xero’s cheeks. “And this one will never talk again.”

In the reflection of the camera lens, Seogoong sees Xero pout and feels him hide his face Seogoong’s shoulder, nose ticklish. He’s still holding onto Seogoong like this long after the camera has stepped away to bother the rest of the kids, and Seogoong can’t, doesn’t want to tell him to stop.

“You’ll do better next time,” he says, patting Xero’s hands. Still on Seogoong’s stomach, Seogoong can’t breathe without feeling their pressure and can’t shift without remembering over and over again Xero is sticking to him like glue. “You were nervous. If they edit you out, whatever. If they don’t, our fans will think it’s cute. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I knew what I was supposed to say, but I forgot it all,” he sighs. “I’m such a failure, hyung, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to fix my mistake.”

Seogoong’s stomach bubbles; the rancid taste in his mouth is back. “Hey. It’s a mistake. Mistakes happen to everyone; you learn from them and you move on.” He pats the backs of Xero’s hands again, trying to comfort him in a way he knows is small and pitiful. He can’t do much while Xero is clinging to him like this, if only their positions were reversed.

Xero sighs again, but he starts to loosen his arms and drops his chin from Seogoong’s shoulder. “Thanks hyung,” he says, already turning his face away. Probably to B-Joo, who mouths, “What’s wrong?” and then beckons Xero over.

Seogoong wants to grab Xero and shake him until he’s a little nicer to the person Seogoong likes oh so very much but he doesn’t. He lets him go.

 

 

Later, Jiho pulls himself back. Taeyang is asleep on the kitchen table, midnight snack sitting half eaten in its plate. Hyunho is centimeters away from closing his fingers around Taeyang’s sloppily made sandwich when Jiho’s “Hyunho hyung?” reaches him.

Hyunho steps back from the table and whirls around, head movements a little restricted because of the tight hood pulled up over his hair.

Jiho walks into the kitchen wearing red checkered pajama bottoms too long for his legs and a large white sweatshirt because their heating is a joke. His hair, due for another painful bleaching any day now, falls loosely onto his forehead and around his ears. Jiho’s face is swollen and he can barely open his eyes; he bumps into Hyunho and stays there, hooking his fingers into the front pocket of Hyunho’s sweatshirt.

This is honestly unfair.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunho mutters, arms straight at his sides. “Go back to sleep.” That is, of course, when his stomach decides to rudely interject.

Jiho laughs, low and secretive. “Hungry?” He peeks up through his fried bangs, a little smile curving his mouth.

Hyunho wants to kiss him, eat the sandwich, and falls into the ground, in that order.

“How about we split it?” he suggests, because if he’s not kissing Jiho tonight, or ever, and he’s not mysteriously disappearing into Hyunho-sized hole in the grounds, he might as well eat the damn sandwich.

Jiho agrees and they take their food into the living room. Hyunho runs his hand over the wall, looking for the light, and Jiho whispers, “Can you, um, leave it off for now? I like the dark.” His voice lowers. “I think it’s kind of magical.”

“Okay, wizard boy,” says Hyunho. He somehow manages not to break his shins on the coffee table and Jiho only stumbles into him once on his way to the couch.

Hyunho’s never eaten in the dark before. It’s not that great. His chewing sounds too loud to his own ears and half the fun of joy is looking at the food itself. At least he hasn’t missed his own mouth too badly and even if he did, Jiho wouldn’t know, so there’s that.

After the chewing has died down and Jiho has sighed enough times to be considered troubling (five -- Hyunho counts), Jiho says, “Hyung.”

“Hm?” Hyunho squints at him. “What is it?”

“Do you ever...” Jiho gulps. His hands find Hyunho’s arm and latches on tight. “Do you ever get annoyed with me? Not... not just when we’re at home. Anytime.”

Hyunho hums and pretends to think about it. “No,” he says after a while. _I’m too busy thinking about kissing you to be annoyed, honestly._ Hyunho frowns at himself and chooses to let that go. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” says Jiho in a tone that clearly says he knows. “It’s just... sometimes when we’re, you know, out there and I... I’m hanging all over you, I feel like... maybe you’ll get annoyed? If not now then maybe... some day and I...” He clears his throat. “I want you to tell me if I’m ever... being annoying... to you. That’s all.” He exhales.

“It’s not annoying,” Hyunho insists. “It’s... part of the job, isn’t it? It’s not like you do it only to me.” Hyunho hears the opening lines of Trey Songz’s “Can’t Be Friends” in his head. It’s going to be a long night.

“That’s right,” says Jiho, shifting. “It’s not... only to Hyunho hyung. But....” Another hard swallow.

Hyunho waits. _But?_

“As long as you’re not annoyed with me,” Jiho presses his face into Hyunho’s shoulder. “I’m happy.”

“I could never be annoyed with you,” Hyunho whispers.

It’s all fun and games until Jiho, not Xero, turns his head and kisses his cheek.

Hyunho starts, flushing, lips flapping uselessly, “Um. Why... why did you do that?” This isn’t part of the plan; there are no cameras here, no audience, no _fans._ No reason to put on a show.

Jiho is quiet and then, “I guess... because I wanted to? Because... Hyunho hyung is really nice, and you say a lot of nice things, and I just...” He laughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I guess I, haha, got a little... carried away? I think I need some sleep.” Hyunho feels him nod. “Yeah. Sleep.”

Let the record show Park Hyunho has never kissed anyone and blamed it on exhaustion.

“I’ll, um.” Jiho shifts again and rises to his feet. “I’ll go to bed now, okay, hyung? Get some sleep too.” Then he pauses, as if waiting, and Hyunho doesn’t know what else to say.

On impulse, he grabs Jiho’s wrist and tells him to sit back down on the couch. As quiet as mouse, Jiho obeys, now pressing heavily into Hyunho’s side.

Hyunho asks, “You kissed me because you wanted to?”

“Yes,” Jiho whispers. “Please... please don’t get mad. We can pretend this never happened--”

Hyunho aims for his cheek, misses, and presses his lips to the corner of Jiho’s mouth. His heart is beating wildly, his hands, cupping Jiho’s face, are shaking, and he’s pretty sure the partially digested sandwich in his stomach has grown claws and will not tear him apart from the inside out. “There,” he murmurs back with far more confidence than he feels. “Now we’re even.”

Jiho sighs and mumbles, “Hyung, when you do things like this, I... just... I just want to...”

(Honestly, Hyunho could have stopped at this point. This was already more than he had ever thought possible.

But he didn’t, and so. )

Hyunho asks, “Just want to what?”

Jiho’s breath brushes his lips. He turns his face, brushing his cheek against Hyunho’s hand. “Keep going. Never stop. Do more... with you.”

(And he shouldn’t have asked--)

“Do more like... what?”

(But he did.)

“Bad things,” Jiho says simply. “Things... you’re not supposed to think about with your group members. Things... you don’t really say, only think about in the dark.”

(And he shouldn’t have said--)

“We’re in the dark now,” he brushes a thumb over one of Jiho’s cheeks; Jiho shivers and scoots closer, a hand landing on Hyunho’s thigh.

(But he did.)

“We are,” Jiho agrees, a minute tremble in his voice. “Hyung, if you’re teasing me right now, you’re not as nice as I thought you were and I might have to punch you later.”

Hyunho shakes his head, “You won't have to punch me, I’m not teasing.” He lets his words sink in.

This is unbelievable, this conversation unconceivable, and if this is a dream, Hyunho doesn’t want to wake up just yet. The possibility that Hyunho might not be in this alone, that his feelings are in some way reciprocated, and that Jiho is trembling because he’s frightened and is desperate for any kind of response. “Jiho,” Hyunho says slowly.

“Hyung?” Jiho whispers, breathing heavily.

“What...” Hyunho begins. “What do you want from me?”

Jiho whispers, “Kiss me again,” in the smallest voice Hyunho has ever heard.

Hyunho does.

 

 

Minutes later, Taeyang groans and scrapes his chair against the kitchen floor.

Jiho gasps; Hyunho covers his mouth, visions of contract terminations and disappointed parents dancing in his head like sugar plums are wont to do the night before Christmas. Half in Hyunho’s lap, Jiho wobbles, Hyunho catches him with an arm around his hips, and they both watch as Taeyang sleepily stumbles past the living room and stomps into one of the bedrooms.

“We should go too,” whispers Jiho, pulling Hyunho to his feet. “We can, um, talk about this some other time. Don’t... forget it. Okay, hyung?”

“I wont,” Hyunho promises, still flushed and a little hard and too happy for how late at night it must be. He can still feel Jiho’s lips on his mouth, soft and warm. “Goodnight, Jiho.”

Jiho squeezes his hand. “Night, hyung.”

 

 

“Waa~” coos B-Joo from behind the camera. “And what are Seogoong hyung and Xero doing?”

Xero, in Seogoong’s lap, looks up from Seogoong’s phone. “It’s a new game, see?” He shows tilts the phone screen toward the camera. “You have to match up bubbles before the timer runs out.”

“Xero isn’t too good at this game,” Seogoong muses, chin on Xero’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Xero pouts at him, game paused, and then turns back to the camera. “Every hyung is nicer than Seogoong hyung.”

Seogoong laughs and pinches Xero’s right hip.

“Don’t be a brat,” says Hojoon, making a face at Xero’s expression.

“They act like this but Seogoong hyung and Xero are really close,” Bjoo confides to their audience. “Don’t let cool Seogoong hyung’s facade fool you!” He moves away, now filming Jenissi, Nakta, A-tom, and Yano, and Xero, still perched on Seogoong’s lap, smiles and starts up the game again.

Seogoong drops his forehead onto Xero’s shoulder, squeezes him, and decides to try for a five minute nap.

“Shut up,” Xero hisses to the room. “Hyung’s trying to sleep.”

Seogoong hides his smile in Xero’s glittery shirt.


End file.
